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Yesteryear

Friday, May 14, 2010

May 14, 2010

           Here’s the lineup at the local pharmacy. This photo is temporary. I’ve included it to show you what happens when you have socialized medicine. People who don’t have to pay for things themselves waste time. It took these few people ahead of me 45 minutes to get the hell out of the way. On second thought, this photo is permanent.
           They have this system in Canada, in which welfare cases just love to get to the front of the line and wile away the hours. The longer the lineup behind them, the more important they become. See the lady on the left with the turban? It took 15 minutes for the pharmacist to get it through her thick skull that her prescription was expired while she tried the monkey-talk thing on him. Loser.
           This is a checkpoint for my FireHow progress. I began publishing March 24, so this is day 52. The benchmark was one article per day; I’m ahead of schedule. I have read some 5% of other articles, mind you that includes a peek in most categories and study of the other major writers. Some authors have learned to include pictures and have a decent flow to their work though the originality of those photos is suspect. I appear to be the only one to figure out the indent, to follow a fixed format and to use proper numbering sequences for embedded lists.
           My total hits are 1,559 for earnings of $5.21. I have no idea if this is good or bad by Internet standards, though the totals are pitiful by mine. But I’ve learned. I’ve decided to avoid the more obvious dirty tricks and to continue to produce high quality articles. A few others are truly savvy in their narrow fields but most of the posts read like somebody sat down and strained their public-school brain for anything they could crank out three paragraphs concerning. There is an ominous growth in System 7 pieces, a topic on which I know nothing. Yet.
           Top category for me is, by a healthy margin, the electric bass tabs. These are easily the most advanced and highly formatted posts in FireHow to date. They further employ every sophisticated style and html tags that are possible on the FireHow system. This was not by choice, I often had to manipulate what was there to get the right effect. Many of the options offered simply don’t behave. There can be little doubt the FireHow brass is well aware of what I’ve accomplished. What’s the bets they eventually say something?
           Nobody has dared to copy my style, and if they do, they are in for a surprise. The formatting disappears whenever they cut and paste. The tabs become unreadable in proportionate fonts. Equally confusing to copycats is that even if they reapply the style, these changes never survive an update. There is no efficient way to bass tab without doing all the hard work right the first time. Such writers are a scant minority everywhere.
           You know how sometimes you take pity on a scam artist, being reduced to what he/she is, and all? There’s this local who somehow gets meat packages, still cold and fresh, but he also takes the $20 wrappers off more expensive cuts and wraps them around what he’s got. It probably fools many, but tonight he had top quality and I feasted on steaks for twenty cents a pound. Me and Pudding-Tat both.
           On the way home evening last, I met a new Karaoke entertainer with a most elaborate system. His monitor lets the singer face the audience instead of the stage, a superb concept that has not yet reached Florida in general. He had a variety of equipment to equalize and compress music from non-matching sources.
           Myself, I tend to re-record all my music first, so it does not require any treatment on stage. This also makes my music unique and I wouldn’t have it any other way. He asked questions of concern to the less technically inclined. I responded, “Oh, if I see anything like that, I just delete it and carry on.” He appeared awestruck, that same stunned ape look familiar in my brothers whenever they realized that a little brainwork would have saved them a world of hurt. Evidenced by family portraits show by my age ten, this expression became permanent.